


Two Halves: Full Moon

by Mirage159



Series: Two Halves Series [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirage159/pseuds/Mirage159
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lassarina has returned to Skyrim with only two things on her mind; Getting to Riften and finding her brother. But on her way to deliver a message to the Jarl of Whiterun she gets attacked by a Giant and rescued by the Companions. Knowing she needs money to get to Riften, she decides to stay a while, not aware that her destiny is falling into place before her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

The sky was clear and the sun was just beginning to set as Lassarina made her way to Whiterun. She had left Riverwood earlier that day, with a written plea addressed to Jarl Balgruff asking to send more Whiterun soldiers to their small town to protect them in the event of a dragon attack. Shuddering at the events that took place just the day before, Lassarina couldn't help but look up at the sky fearfully. It was still out there; the dragon. She looked back to the road at the sound of footsteps ahead and saw Imperial Soldiers escorting a prisoner. She passed them without meeting their gazes, not wanting to attract attention, a hard task when her skin was covered in smoke stains and she had dried blood on one side of her face.

“You there,” one of the Imperials called. “What happened to you?”

Lassarina glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers. “The farm I worked at was attacked by bandits,” she lied. “They set it ablaze and killed everyone, but I managed to slip away. I'm heading to Whiterun to find work.”

“Damned bandits,” one of the Imperials spat. “They're as bad as the Stormcloaks.”

“It's you Imperials that are ruining Skyrim!” the prisoner retorted. He looked at Lassarina and added, “If you want work, go to Windhelm and join up with the Stormcloaks. Fight the good fight against these Imperial–”

The prisoner was silenced when one of the Imperials punched him. Lassarina flinched, wishing she could help him, but she wasn't about to be taken prisoner by the Imperial Army. 

_Not again,_ she said to herself.

“Be careful on the roads, lass,” one of the Imperials warned her. “There's been rumors of dragons.”

“I'll be careful,” she promised as she continued walking, turning on the road towards Whiterun. 

She stared up at the keep ahead and smiled. Once she delivered the message she would find some work in the village and save enough to go to Riften. She would have never left if she hadn't been adopted by that family from Cyrodiil, merely adopting her so they would have an extra pair of hands to boss around. She was just nearing the stables when she felt the ground shake beneath her.

Instinctively she glanced up at the sky, expecting to see a dragon. But the sky was clear, not a dragon in sight, the ground still shaking. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off the ground by something grabbing at the back of her dress. She screamed in terror as she looked over her shoulder and looked straight into the face of a giant. She had always heard all sorts of stories throughout her entire childhood, of women kidnapped and raped by giants when they chose to travel the roads alone. She always figured it was just a way to scare her into never running away, but now as she stared into the giants eyes, she saw they were dark and angry. 

“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking with all her might.

She heard a hissing in the air and the giant screamed, nearly releasing her. Lassarina looked down and saw an arrow embedded in the giant's chest. She looked around and saw a woman had fired the arrow. She had a man and a woman at her side and they were charging right at the giant, swords ready to cut it down. Lassarina had a dagger on her belt that she had nearly forgotten and reached down to grab it. Once she had it in her hands, she thrust it into the giant's hand, making it roar in pain and drop her. She hit the ground hard, her temple coming in contact with a large rock, and cried out in pain.

She lay there, dimly aware of the battle occurring around her. The battle shouts from the fighters, the roars of the giant. They echoed throughout the entire area, no doubt reaching beyond the stone walls of Whiterun, just above. It continued for several more minutes before it went silent, the fight ending with a loud thump from the giant falling to the ground dead. She felt someone kneel beside her and lift her into a sitting position. Opening her eyes she found herself staring right into a pair of gray-blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice rough and masculine.

Lassarina blinked several time before nodding. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he inquired, reaching up to touch her head.

She flinched when his hands touched a very tender spot and he immediately pulled his hand away.

“I hit my head,” she whispered, reaching up to touch where it ached.

Her hand touched the hot and already swollen area of her temple and it came away wet with blood.

“We need to get you to a healer,” he said, lifting her off the ground and carrying her in his arms.

“I think this dagger is hers,” said one of the women, as they placed it back into the loop on her belt.

Lassarina placed her head against the mans chest and listened to his heartbeat, extremely soothed by it. She was so tired. She hadn't slept since she woke up on the wagon. She closed her eyes and sighed.

_I'll just rest a few minutes,_ she told herself, the darkness quickly taking her.

**oOo**

_“Quick into the tower!” the Stormcloak shouted at her, pulling her by her still bound hands._

_The entire town was in the grips of a panicked confusion. The dragon was flying overhead, shooting jets of hot fire down at the building and the soldiers firing arrows at it. The villagers were screaming and crying, running in every direction at once. Only the Stormcloaks and the Imperials seemed to keep calm enough to think. Lassarina allowed herself to be pulled into the tower and the door shut behind her._

_“Jarl, what is that thing?” asked the Stormcloak that led her into the tower. “Could the legends be true?!”_

_“Legends don't burn down villages,” the Jarl replied, his voice calm._

_“We need to move now!” the Stormcloak announced. “Up through the tower, let's go!”_

_She followed him and another soldier up the steps. Just as the were halfway up, the wall beside the crashed down and the dragon poked its head in, staring right at her with those cold, evil eyes right before shooting its fire at her._

_“NO!” she screamed as the fires enveloped her._

**oOo**

“NO!” she gasped sitting up in the bed.

“You're awake, thank the gods,” said a gentle voice beside her.

Lassarina looked over and saw a small old woman sitting in a nearby chair, watching over her. She found herself in a bed, furs covering her naked, but clean body. A fire roaring nearby and warming up the entire room. The old woman got up from her chair and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside her and examining her head.

“Where am I?” Lassarina asked, clutching the furs to cover her body.

“You're safe and sound in Jorrvaskr,” the woman told her with a smile as she gently touched the wound.

She flinched at the sharp pain but didn't move. “What happened?” 

“Farkas carried you in and said you had a run in with a Giant,” the old woman explained, dabbing a salve on her injury as she finished her inspection. “I cleaned you up, treated your wounds, and you've been asleep for two days straight. Some of the Companions were already saying you might not wake up. But you're a strong Nord woman, I told them. It'll take more than a bump to the head to bring down a Nord.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Tilma. And what, may I ask, is your name?”

“Lassarina,” she replied, running her fingers through her dark auburn hair, surprised to find it felt clean and soft.

“Well it's a pleasure to meet you Lassarina.” 

“Tilma do you know where my clothes are?” 

“Unfortunately the giant ripped your dress, but I found you an dress to wear. I wasn't sure it would fit though, you're so skinny.”

Lassarina thanked her for the dress, surprised to see that Tilma had washed her small clothes, and quickly threw everything on. The dress was blue with a brown leather corset, that Tilma helped her tie on, and found that it truly was a bit large on her, especially around the chest. It was clear that the previous owner of the garment was well endowed, unlike herself, but she made due with what was given to her out of sheer kindness.

“Do you remember where you placed my hair tie?” she asked Tilma, trying to push her tangled waist length locks out of her face. 

Tilma nodded and handed her the strip of leather that Lassarina used to tie back her hair every day. She quickly gathered it together in a braid, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the singed ends. She would have to trim her hair soon.

“Thank you for giving me a placed to rest when I was in such bad shape,” she told Tilma with a smile. “But I really should collect my things and be on my way. I've bothered you enough already.”

“Nonsense dear,” Tilma reassured her. “You were in danger and the Companions helped you, as is their job. But, if you insist, you should at least have a hot meal before you leave.”

She opened her mouth to refuse, but her stomach betrayed her by growling loudly, making it clear she was not to pass up food. She'd been asleep for two days, which meant the last thing she ate was some bread and cheese at Gerdur's house. Just the thought of it made her light headed and even hungrier.

“Just head into the hall and have a seat anywhere,” Tilma laughed. “There's food out for anyone to enjoy.

Nodding gratefully, Lassarina walked out of the room she had slept in and into a large hall with a roaring fire in the center of it and a long table surrounding it. She saw a few people already seated, eating their fill and drinking from tankards. She caught the gaze of an Imperial woman and quickly looked away.

“The girl is awake!” the Imperial woman announced. “Time to call in the bets! You owe me ten gold pieces, Torvar!”

“How do you know she's awake?” a drunk Nord at one side of the hall demanded. “She might be sleep walking.”

“Pay up!” 

“Glad to see you're awake,” spoke a familiar voice; the voice of the man who carried her here.

She raised her gaze and got a good look at him for the first time. He stood over a foot taller than her, wearing steal armor and carrying a great-sword on his back. Shoulder length black hair framed his rugged, handsome face, all tangled and in need of a good brushing. His face and neck was dusted by the shadow on his stubbly beard and his blue-gray eyes were covered in war paint that had been applied sloppily. 

“Some of the Companions had made bets that you wouldn't wake up.”

“I noticed,” she smiled, glancing over at the Imperial woman and the drunk named Torvar. “Thank you so much for helping me by the way. If you hadn't come along that giant might have killed me.”

“I was just doing my job. My name is Farkas by the way.”

“I'm Lassarina,” she introduced herself. “Though if it's too long a name, many have taken to just calling me Rina or Lass.”

“I like it,” he grinned. “It's an interesting name to say the least.”

“It means 'fire wine,'” she explained. “It's a very rare spiced wine my mother was fond of and she saw fit to name me after it.”

“Well, it suits you.” 

“I only wish I had some way of repaying you for rescuing me.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and led her to the tables. “You could always tell me why you were on the road alone while you eat.”

Farkas looked Lassarina up and down as he led her to the table, making a quick assessment of her. She looked rather young, her sky blue eyes wide and innocent. And her heart-shaped face was very beautiful–a beauty no doubt gifted to her by Dibella herself–but it was marred by the obvious thinness from starvation that plagued her and her entire body.

_She looks like she's never had a proper meal in her life_ , Farkas thought to himself, pulling out a chair for her.

Despite how skinny she was, he noticed she still had a woman’s body, her curves accentuated by the corset around her waist. Once she was filled out properly with plenty of meals, she would be truly astonishing to look at. Bandits would no doubt love to get a hold of her.

“Have a seat, Lassarina,” he offered. “And eat and drink your fill of food and mead.”

“Oh, I don't drink,” she told him, her wide eyes shocked at the idea.

“Now that's amusing. A girl named after wine, but doesn't drink.”

“My adopted father never allowed me to drink any mead or wine,” she explained, her mouth watering at the sight of the roasted rabbit legs on the plate before her. “He said it was only for him and his true born children and the guests at the inn.”

“Then indulge yourself and have a sip now,” he said, offering her a goblet full of wine.

Lassarina hesitated, eying the goblet fearfully.

“Come now, your father isn't here to deny you the pleasures in life anymore.”

She smiled at him and took a small sip of the wine. She was delighted to find it tasted of fruits she couldn't very well identify followed by a hint of spiciness that shocked her palette. Letting the flavor overwhelm her mouth she took another sip, this was much larger than the first. The Companions in the hall had been watching and laughed at how much she was enjoying her first taste of wine.

“A true Nord!” the Imperial woman laughed.

“That she is Ria,” Torvar agreed. “I'll bet we'll find her sleeping off hangovers in the waterways in just a matter of days.”

“I'll take you up on that bet,” said a male Dunmer in the corner.

“Ten gold pieces then!” Torvar slurred. “How does that sound Athis?”

“Sounds like you're trying to get out of paying me,” Ria said.

Lassarina smiled at the sight of these people before her and turned back to Farkas, who was still looking at her.

“So tell me, why was a slip of a thing like you traveling the roads alone?” he asked her.

“I was sent by Gerdur of Riverwood to deliver a message to Jarl Balgruff,” she explained. “They request Whiterun guards be sent there to protect them, since Helgen was attack by a dragon.”

“Aye I heard of that,” he nodded. “Are the rumors true though?”

“I saw the beast fly over Bleak Fall Barrow myself. I still need to deliver the message; gods know if the dragon hasn't already attacked.”

“If Riverwood was attacked we'd know. We've heard nothing of the sort since we found you.”

“That's a relief. I'll deliver the message once I've finished eating then.”

“What do you plan to do after you've delivered the message?” 

“I'll try and earn some coin,” she told him, taking a bite of rabbit. “Enough to hire myself a carriage to take me to Riften.”

“You're from Riften then?” Farkas asked after a sip of mead, he had hoped she might want to stay in Whiterun.

“I grew up there with my older brother, well half-brother,” she spoke softly, taking another sip of wine as her eyes clouded with sorrow. “I was born in Windhelm, though–someones bastard. He sent my mother money for a time, so I think he might have been a noble, but then he died and his true born son demanded my mother leave Windhelm. He told my mother he'd send her one hundred gold pieces every moon if she promised never to return and she did. I was only a year old when we moved to Riften, so it's my home.”

“So you're going back to be with your mother and brother then?”

Farkas saw her eyes grow even sadder and he knew her family was no longer on this plane. Of course they were dead, she had spoken of her adopted father. He felt quite foolish and guilty for bringing up unpleasant memories.

“My mother died when I was four,” she told him sadly. “She got really sick one day and it took her quickly. Most of my childhood was spent in Honorhall Orphange.”

“I'm sorry,” he apologized. 

“It's fine. I never spent much time in the Orphange anyways. I spent most of the days outside with a friend. I want to go back to Riften to be reunited with my friend and help him run his,” she paused and chuckled softly, “market stand.”

“What about your brother?” Farkas asked curiously as well as cautiously, wondering how he had perished.

“My brother, Einarr, was fifteen when our mother died,” she explained. “The old woman at the orphanage, Grelod, wouldn't take him and allowed a Khajit caravan to adopt him. I imagine he can be anywhere between here and Elsweyr, I haven't seen him since that day and don't even know if he's alive.”

“So for now you'll stay here in Whiterun?”

“Aye, do you know of any work around here?”

“Well, the Companions always have work available,” he told her. “But it's mostly dangerous work involving driving out bandits and other threats. Not work for a small thing like you.”

“Maybe I could help out around the hall then,” she offered. “Help Tilma possibly. I know just from the look of her that she's not here to fight.”

“Right you are,” he chuckled. “Tilma lives here and keeps Jorrvaskr clean. If she wasn't here the place would be as untidy as a barn.”

“I'll have you know that not all barn are untidy. My adopted father made me keep the stables clean at all times so more travelers would want to stop and house their horses for the night.”

“It sounds like he thought of you as nothing but a servant.”

“Worse,” Lassarina sighed, her eyes sparked with rage. “Servants get paid. But since I was his adopted daughter he never paid me. Just ordered me around and let his sons abuse me. That's why I ran away. One of his sons tried to . . .”

She trailed off and Farkas didn't need any explaining. A pretty thing like her could make any man weak and disregard any honor they had just to bed her, whether she wanted it or not. 

“Where do these boys live?” he asked her. “I have half a mind to go to them and beat them half way to Sovengarde.”

“Thank you but they're all they way in Cyrodiil,” she told him. “I doubt they'd come looking for me too. And if they did I wouldn't go back without a fight.”

He saw the fierce determination and fury that overtook her and knew this girl had a fierce hatred for her adopted family. He could never imagine what kind of childhood she had, since he grew up happily, growing up and fighting alongside the Companions.

“Well I should go deliver the message to the jarl,” she sighed, finishing the last of her rabbit and wine.

“Come back once you're done,” Farkas told her. “I'll speak to our Harbinger and ask if he'd take you on for some work while you're here.”

“Oh, I was only joking. I could never impose like that.”

“Think of it as repaying us for saving your life. Tilma's getting on in years and she wouldn't say no to some extra hands. We'd give you a bed to sleep in and a place out our table while you're here.”

Lassarina nibbled on her lower lip and looked around. She really did enjoy the atmosphere of Jorrvaskr and she did need to find some work.

“I'll think about it,” she told him. “Besides you've only just admitted you aren't the one in charge here. Your Harbinger is.”

“He won't send you out on the streets with nowhere to go though,” Farkas told her. “And who knows, a few days with us and you might never want to leave.”

She laughed at the thought and shook her head. Her home was Riften and she would get back there no matter what, just to see her best friend and possibly check if Grelod the Kind was finally dead. She went back to where she had slept and found her belonging on top of a chest. She quickly took out the note from Gerdur, but left her other things. She knew she was going to come back anyways, so why have more to carry. She waved at Farkas as she made her way outside to deliver the plea to Jarl Balgruff.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lassarina meets Farkas's twin and he inadvertantly makes his attraction to her known.

**Chapter Two**

Once she had left Jorrvaskr, Farkas ran down to the living quarters to speak to Kodlak, the Harbinger of the Companions. The old man was in his anteroom, reading a book, which made Farkas roll his eyes. Farkas's twin brother Vilkas also had a fond fascination with reading that he could never understand. Why read about someone else's life when you can go out and live your own?

“Farkas is there something you need?” Kodlak asked, glancing up from his book.

“The lass woke up,” he announced.

“Ah and did she tell you her name?” 

“Her name's Lassarina. She was sent from Riverwood and is staying here long enough to make enough gold to hire a carriage to Riften.”

“Well the Companions have plenty of jobs she could do that will earn her some coin,” Kodlak suggested. “Maybe the girl would want to join.”

“I don't think she would be able to lift a sword, much less kill some bandits. If we were to offer her work she'd be better off helping Tilma.”

“She's a weak lass then? That's a shame.”

“I don't think she's weak, but she's had a hard life and is very thin. I doubt that she's had more than one meal of bread and water a day. She just needs to fill out a bit and become stronger before goes on her way.”

“She is a pretty one,” Kodlak added, looking right at Farkas. “It'd be dangerous to let her travel the roads without knowing how to defend herself. We'll pay her to help Tilma and give her a place to stay. Farkas, teach her how to defend herself and once you think she's capable she can do whatever she wants.”

Farkas smiled at the thought of training Lassarina to fight. He'd have to go easy on her, knowing she didn't possess that much strength. Kodlak must have caught the smile and figured out what was running through his mind.

“Taken a liking to the girl have you?” the older man chuckled.

Farkas looked at Kodlak surprised, but couldn't resist a devilish grin. “She's a feast for the eyes, and she seems to have a gentle spirit.”

“From the screams I've heard coming out of your room, you'd probably break the girl,” spoke a new voice. 

Farkas turned and chuckled at Skjor's words. “She's a Nord, surely she can't be as weak as she appears.”

“The girl is just malnourished,” Kodlak sighed. “But Farkas don't be trying to seduce the girl when she plans on leaving Whiterun. Like you said yourself, she seems to have a gentle spirit, you might set her up to have her heart broken.”

“I hear you old man,” he grumbled. “I'll resist my urges.”

“Good then be on your way,” Kodlak ordered. “I have some business to discuss with Skjor.”

Farkas nodded and left Kodlaks anteroom, heading out to search for Lassarina.

**oOo**

Lassarina left Dragonsreach carrying a bundle of leather armor that Jarl Balgruff had given her as a reward for delivering the message from Riverwood. His court wizard, Farengar, had asked for her assistance in retrieving a lost artifact that would help him learn more about the dragon predicament, but she quickly refused. She didn't want to have anything to do with dragons. She just wanted to get to Riften and find the closest thing she had to a family.

As she climbed up the steps to Jorrvaskr, she struggled to keep a good grip on her armor. When she reached the top of the steps, she bumped into someone, dropping her bundle and nearly falling all the way back down. But the person she bumped into caught her by the waist and steadied her. She looked up and recognized Farkas.

“Thank you so much,” she sighed, relieved. “That could have been a nasty fall.”

“Are ya daft woman?” he growled. “You should be more aware of where you're going!”

She blinked and looked at him surprised. That's when she realized that Farkas looked slightly different from earlier. He wasn't as tall or muscular, his hair was shorter, and even his voice was different.

“Farkas?” she ventured, completely unsure.

He sighed. “Nay, I'm his brother, Vilkas.”

“His brother?” she gaped. “You two look exactly alike!”

“Aye, twins tend to look identical,” he told her sarcastically, moving her away from the steps and releasing her.

“Right,” she murmured, completely embarrassed. “Forgive me.”

“So, you finally woke up then?” Vilkas asked, looking at her up and down, his eyes lingering when they made contact with hers.

“Aye, just a short while ago. My name is Lassarina by the way.”

She watched him kneel to pick up her armor and eyed it. 

“Why does a twig like you need armor?” he asked,

“It was a reward for a service I preformed.” 

“Service?”

“I was sent here from Riverwood to deliver a message before I make my way to Riften. The armor was a reward, but I'll probably sell it, I don't really have any need for it.”

“Don't, if you're going to be traveling all the way to Riften you should wear something that will protect you.”

“I'm no warrior. I don't need armor if I'm never going to fight.”

“Don't be too sure about that, Lassarina,” Farkas' voice interjected. 

She looked over at the doors of Jorrvaskr and saw Farkas walking over to her and Vilkas. He greeted his twin with a strong pat to the back and smiled at her.

“I see you've met my brother then,” he noticed. 

“She mistook me for you,” Vilkas explained. “Don't see how anyone can mistake me for a mountain like you.”

Farkas laughed. “Don't be bitter that I kept growing and you didn't.”

“A shame your brain didn't develop as large as your body,” he snapped back, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Lassarina smiled at the brothers little back and forth and tried to mask her giggles by covering her mouth. Vilkas glared at her, his blue-gray eyes stormy, before he scoffed and headed down the stairs. She frowned and looked up at Farkas.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“Nay, my brother's always been a grouch,” he smiled.

“So am I going to be using this armor?”

“Kodlak said you could work alongside Tilma until you've earned enough coin to travel to Riften, but he doesn't want you to leave until you've learned how to defend yourself.”

“So I'm to learn to fight; with swords?”

“Don't worry I'll start you off easy. I'll teach you to use a dagger and then maybe we can move on to a sword.”

“Wait, you're going to teach me?!” 

“I know it's not really fair,” he joked. “You'll probably make me feel guilty for tossing you around the training yard like a rag doll.”

She glared at him and smacked his arm, receiving a heartfelt laugh from him. 

“I don't want to hurt your feeling, but I barely felt that.”

“I wasn't trying.”

“Of course you weren't.”

“Well, if I have to learn to fight, could we wait a few days? I'm still not feeling too strong.”

“Of course, Lassarina. Until then I can show you where you can sleep while you're with us.”

She followed him into Jorrvaskr and down to the living quarters where all of the Companions slept. She stepped into a large room with several beds along the stone walls and spotted her belongings on top of one of the beds at the end.

“Does everyone sleep together in this room?” she asked him, setting the armor down beside her bag.

“Nay, the members of the Circle have their own rooms,” he told her. 

“Are you a part of the Circle?”

“That I am. I have a nice little set up all to myself.”

“Can I see it?”

Farkas was caught by surprise and shifted uneasily for a moment. He only ever brought a woman into his room to bed her and the idea of bringing Lassarina anywhere near there was enough to make his body become tight. 

“You see, my room is a bit messy right now.”

“More of a reason to take me there,” she smiled. “I'm supposed to help Tilma keep Jorrvaskr clean, I might as well get started.”

Farkas wanted to protest, but just looking at her smiling face made him go weak. He nodded stiffly and led her down the hall and to the right, where his room sat right across from his brothers. He opened the door and walked inside, embarrassed that his room was exactly as he said– messy. He had weapons, pieces of armor and clothing scattered on the floor. The bar on the one end of his room had empty bottles of mead strewn about the counter.

“Wow, you weren't kidding when you said it was messy,” she told him as she stepped inside and walked past him, bending over to pick up his things off the floor. “This room looks like it hasn't been cleaned in months.”

“Tilma doesn't come in here because she says I shouldn't give her so much work,” he told her, walking over to the bar and sorting through all of the bottles.

She folded his clothing as she picked it up and made her way to his wardrobe, simply placing it inside in a neat stack once she reached it. She looked around and smiled when she saw that it was already starting to look cleaner.

“Where do you usually keep your weapons?” she asked as she reached for a heavy battle axe on the floor.

“I had a weapons rack,” he told her. “But it broke recently. So just place them against the wall until I build a new one.”

She nodded and was about to place the axe against the wall when she noticed the dried blood on the blade. Frowning, she walked to the bar and grabbed a rag he left there. She seated herself on his bed and got to work cleaning the blade. Farkas stared at her as she cleaned his weapon, impressed that she knew the proper way to do it. He walked over to her just as she finished cleaning the blood off and took the axe from her, checking every inch of the axe to see if all the blood was gone. 

“Where did you learn to clean weapons?” he asked her, placing the axe against the wall.

“Whenever people stopped by the inn, my adopted father would make me clean their weapons for some extra coin,” she explained. “I became quite good at it after a while, I know how to sharpen blades too.”

“You're just full of surprises aren't you?”

She giggled and nodded. “I still have many more too.”

Farkas laughed and looked at her. She looked so natural and relaxed seated on his bed. His imagination soon started to conjure images of her sprawled across the furs, wearing nothing and looking up at him lustfully. His loins began to tighten and he shook his head, trying to clear the perverted thoughts from his mind.

“Farkas, are you alright?” Lassarina asked him, her voice quiet.

He looked at her and nodded, his face stern. “Aye, I'm fine. But why don't you just let me finish cleaning up and see if Tilma has something for you to do?”

Lassarina stared at him a moment before nodding and leaving his room, closing the door behind her. Only when she was outside did Farkas release a growl of pure want. On the other side of the door, Lassarina pretended not to hear the animal sound he made–one she was all too familiar with. It brought back memories of her adopted brothers and the guests that stayed at the inn. Since she turned fifteen, men had always had their lustful gazes trained on her and she was constantly spurning their advances. She had even taking to sleeping with a dagger underneath her pillow in fear that a man would attempt to violate her in the night.

She tried to remain a virgin like her mother would have wanted. But she could only reject men so many times before they became violent and obsessive. Her hands shook at the unpleasant memories swarming in her head and quickly pushed them away, not wanting to think about it. She headed back to her borrowed bed, wanting to just hide underneath the furs. Hide from her memories.

**oOo**

When Lassarina opened her eyes and hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep. She sat up in her bed and saw that the other Companions had retired by now. The Imperial, Ria, and a Nord woman she had not met slept in the beds across from her while Torvar and the dark elf, Athis, slept in the other end of the room. She knew it must be past midnight, but she needed some fresh air. She got out of her bed and walked upstairs to the mead hall before stepping outside through the back doors.

Lassarina looked around at the back portion of Jorrvaskr, not surprised to see it was a training yard. She saw weapons lying on tables and instinctively grabbed a nearby hunting bow and the full quiver of arrows beside it. She stepped onto the training yard and eyed a target several feet away from her. Taking a deep breath she readied an arrow, drawing the bow string tight. She aimed for the target and held the string for a few seconds before exhaling and releasing it. The arrow hissed as it flew through the air and hit the target, dead center. Quick as a saber cat, she drew another arrow and released it, this one landing right beside the first in the center of the target.

A loud clapping alerted her to another persons presence and she swung around to find an older man watching her. She dropped the bow, surprised, and lowered her head.

“Forgive me, I shouldn't have used the weapon without asking,” she said.

“No need to apologize, young one,” the man spoke, his deep voice extremely soothing. “And don't be afraid of me, I'm not upset.”

She looked up and found him smiling down at her as he approached. 

“I'm glad to see you well,” he told her. “My name is Kodlak, I am Harbinger of the Companions.”

She knew Harbinger was some sort of title for leader and she dipped her head to him.

“An honor to meet you, Kodlak, I am Lassarina. Thank you for allowing me to stay and work for you for a while.”

“Farkas said you showed no combat skill,” Kodlak said, turning to look at the target. “But I'm starting to question his judgment of people. You show great skill in archery. You could probably rival Aela.”

“My friend had someone teach me when I was a girl living in Riften,” she explained with a smile as she bent down to pick up the bow. “I only got better when my adopted father sent me out to hunt for game.”

“Did he not have sons to hunt for him?” he asked.

Lassarina hesitated before nodding. “He did but he didn't want his trueborn sons to risk dying in the woods to a pack of wolves that lived nearby. So he sent me out instead.”

Kodlak frowned at her. “Gods, that's terrible.”

“It's alright, though. I was glad to get some time away from my adopted family. I would spend days in the forest just enjoying nature and the peace.”

Kodlak nodded after a moment and asked, “Do you possess skills with any other weapons?”

“I can use a dagger well enough. I would usually have to finish off whatever game I killed and skin it.”

“Farkas also says that once you've earned enough coin you'll be going to Riften.”

“That's right.”

“Such a shame. If you wanted to, you could stay here in Jorrvaskr. You could train alongside us and become a Companion.”

“Your offer honors me, Kodlak,” she told him with a sad smile, walking over to his side and placed the bow and arrows back on the table where she found them. “But I have to return to my home. I have friends that I pray are still there. I'm not a fighter so I can't be a Companion. I'll work here for a few days and then I'll be on my way.”

Kodlak smiled and gave her a chuckle. “Whatever you wish my dear.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lassarina gets out of Whiterun for the day and brings Farkas with her. Unexpected surprises waiting for them on their little hunting trip.

**Chapter Three**

A few days turned into a few weeks and Lassarina was truly enjoying her time at Whiterun. She had gotten to know all of the Companions and their personalities. Many of them were a joy to be around. She and Ria had become fast friends, often eating together in the mead hall and talking about the things they've seen and done throughout their lives. They talked long into the night, much to Njada's displeasure. Njada was a very short tempered woman, often pointing out that Lassarina didn't belong in Jorrvaskr, since she wasn't a warrior, so she tended to avoid her. She also befriended the Dunmer, Athis, who would often regale her with tales from his home of Morrowind. Everyone found it quite strange how talkative Athis was around her, since he was normally very quiet, and when confronted about it he explained that Lassarina reminded him of some Dunmer woman he had met in his travels.

Lassarina had also grown to adore Tilma. The old woman was like the grandmother she never had, often doting upon her and treating her like her own family. When cleaning, she would always stop Tilma from straining herself and the two would end up work on everything together since she didn't enjoy being reminded of her age. Aela had become a woman she found herself admiring more every passing day, getting her advice on how to improve her archery. She even came to like Torvar quite a bit, despite his valiant efforts to get her drunk.

She found herself extremely intimidated by the Circle member, Skjor, who's scarred blind eye always sent a shiver down her spine. Lassarina knew he was a strong warrior and always avoided getting in his way. She also had come to avoid Farkas's brother Vilkas, but only after it seemed clear he didn't like her. She would sometimes catching him staring at her with hard eyes and whenever she walked by him, he gave her wide berth, never coming to close to her. She expressed her concern to Farkas, but he assured her that Vilkas was always like that to everyone.

Out of all the Companions in Jorrvaskr, Farkas was the one she had grown closest to. He trained her every day on the proper way to handle a one-handed sword, running her through drills but going easy on her whenever they sparred. In the few weeks she had been there she had gotten rather good at wielding a blade and was a bit relieved she would be able to defend herself whenever she did leave for Riften.

The first thing that morning, Lassarina had woken up to spar with Farkas, who was already waiting for her in the training yard, swinging his great sword at a training dummy. She saw that he was too distracted to notice she had arrived so she coughed loud enough for him to hear and he turned to look at her.

“Where did you find those clothes?” he asked her, his mouth becoming dry as he looked at her.

Lassarina was wearing tight brown leather pants and a russet-brown leather jerkin that exposed a bit of her cleavage. She also wore matching dark brown boots and elbow length fingerless gloves trimmed with fur, and had tied her long auburn hair back into a thick braid. Her pale-blue eyes were bright this morning and she already had a sword in her hand. Farkas cursed Dibella silently for making a woman that made him so weak as he stared at her.

“Aela saw that I had been training in a dress this whole time and gave me some of her old armor from when she was younger,” she explained. “I'm actually surprised it fit so well.”

“Well, you finally filled out a bit,” he said, putting his great sword on a table and picking up a one-handed blade. “You looked like you were starving when we found you.”

“Between you and Tilma constantly forcing me to eat I'm not surprised.”

“You seem more excited today,” Farkas observed. “Any reason why?”

“I noticed that I haven't taken a step out of Whiterun since I arrived,” she told him, grabbing a bow and quiver of arrows. “I thought it would be nice to go hunting and was wondering if you'd want to come with me.”

Farkas raised his brows, completely surprised. He never expected Lassarina to be excited about hunting, but then remembered Kodlak telling her how her adopted family would make her do it. From the look in her eye he guessed it was the one thing she actually enjoyed doing that they asked her to do for them.

“So do you want to go?” she asked again, leaning forward, her braid falling over her shoulder.

He smiled at her and nodded. “Aye, just let me grab an empty sack we can carry the game in.”

Lassarina followed him back inside and waited by the table as he disappeared downstairs, fiddling with the end of her braid. She had Tilma cut a few inches off the day after she woke up and was thankful that it wasn't so short. Since she was a small girl, everyone had always admired her hair, saying it was just like her mothers, making her reluctant to ever cut it. But when Grelod sent her off to live with that innkeeper, her adopted mother had cut her hair to her ears and sold it to a wig maker. Lassarina had cried and spent the last seven years growing it out again and nearly broke down when the ends got burned. Her hair was the only thing that reminded her of her mother, and she was determined to always keep it long.

“Where are you two off to?” asked a new voice.

She whirled around and spotted Vilkas sitting in a corner with a book in his hands.

“Farkas and I are going hunting,” she explained. “I haven't been outside Whiterun since I arrived and wanted to go out for a bit.”

“Ah, I heard you enjoyed hunting,” he said, closing the book and putting it in a satchel beside him.

“You look like you're going off somewhere too,” she observed. 

“A group of bandits set up camp not far from here–I'm going to sort them out.”

“Well, then I'll pray for your safe return,” she smiled.

Vilkas stared at her for several moments before nodding and walking out of Jorrvaskr. She frowned and started to wonder if he would ever like her when Farkas reappeared from the dormitories below. He carried a large leather satchel perfect for carrying plenty of meat. He also had a bow and quiver slung across his back.

“Ready to go?” he asked her.

She nodded, slinging the bow she borrowed from the training yard onto her own back and slid her borrowed sword into a scabbard attached to her belt. They stopped inside the kitchen to grab a bit of salted beef and a few bottles of mead in case they got hungry or thirsty while they were out. The morning sun was still weak as they stepped out of Jorrvaskr and headed towards the gates of Whiterun. They passed the marketplace where the merchants were just starting to set up for the day.

“Farkas, where are you off to?” called Carlotta, a widow with a sweet little girl named Mila. 

“Taking our newest resident out for a bit of hunting,” he replied.

“Be careful out there. There's dragons out and about.”

“We'll be safe,” Farkas nodded as he continued walking.

Lassarina became distracted when Carlotta mentioned dragons and followed Farkas, while staring up at the sky the entire time. She kept envisioning skies clouded by smoke and fire. A terrible beast destroying buildings around her and killing anyone in site.

“You alright, lass?” Farkas interrupted her thought.

She blinked and looked at him, seeing he was looking right at her. He must have said something while she was thinking cause he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” she frowned. “I didn't hear what you said.”

“I asked if you wanted to hunt in the plains or the forest,” he repeated.

She considered the options. The plains were wide and vast, offering few places for game hide but it also left them quite exposed. The forests would offer more cover but meant there were plenty of places for danger to hide. But then again she had more experience hunting in a forest than in plains.

“I'd prefer a forest,” she answered.

Farkas nodded and they walked through the gates of Whiterun, toward the forest. As they reached the stables, Lassarina noticed a Khajiit caravan was arriving in a canvased wagon, no doubt full of supplies. She slowed down as they passed the feline beings and caught the eye of the driver, who merely nodded at her as he urged the horses forward. She and Farkas continued walking once they passed but she couldn't help but look over her shoulder at them again and again.

“Did you know the driver?” Farkas asked.

She looked at him and shook his head. “Nay, I just can't help but think of my brother every time I see a Khajiit Caravan.”

“What was your brothers name again? Einarr?”

“Yeah, he should be thirty-one now if he's still alive.” she sighed. “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he hadn't gotten adopted. He probably would have taken me from the orphanage once he was old enough and we could have opened up a market stall or a general store.”

“Do you remember what he looks like? Maybe someone from that caravan would know him.”

“He probably doesn't look a thing like he did when I last saw him. But he'd have light brown hair and eyes like mine. Our mother used to say he looked exactly like his father, except he had her eyes.”

“So you had different fathers?” 

“My mothers first husband was killed while hunting, leaving her and my brother alone. Times got hard and money was tight. I was told she became a noblemans mistress just so she could feed Einarr and herself. Then I was born and my father died too, his only son banished us from Windhelm and you know the rest.”

“You should start asking Khajiit if they know Einarr. I doubt many Nords travel in Khajiit Caravans.”

“I remember the Khajiit that adopted him,” she said suddenly. “He had brown-gray fur with dark brown stripes around his eyes, and those were silver. He had a nasty scar across his face from an animal attack and his left ear was shredded. And his name was Za-something.”

“Well that narrows the search down. When we return from hunting we'll stop by and ask them.”

They continued walking towards the forest, the entire time Lassarina kept thinking about her brother. If he was alive, would he want to see her? It would have been sixteen years since they last saw each other and she wasn't sure if he even still remembered her. For all she knew he might think she was dead too, or might just not care. He could even be married and have children.

When she was still in the orphanage she always hoped that her brother would come back for her one day and take her away from the abusive Grelod. But every year that hope grew weaker and Lassarina stopped fantasizing about her brother walking through that door to save her. The hope all but disappeared when she turned thirteen and Grelod allowed the innkeeper from Cyrodiil to adopt her and take her far away.

Once she and Farkas arrived at the edge of the forest, Lassarina stopped thinking about Einarr and pulled about her bow, focusing on hunting. As they stepped quietly through the trees, a rabbit darted out from behind a bush and she let loose an arrow, getting the furry creature right through the neck. Farkas picked it up off the ground and pulled the arrow out.

“Impressive shot,” he told her.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Aela's training has improved my aim a lot.”

“I can tell. Not a lot of people could shoot a running rabbit through the neck.”

They continued stalking through the trees, Farkas finding the trail of a deer and they decided to follow it. Lassarina followed him as he led the way, amazed at how good he was at tracking, when she heard a low mournful whimper.

“Did you hear that?” Lassarina asked Farkas.

He nodded and they headed towards the sound, completely forgetting about the deer they were tracking. They came across a bloody scene. A large wolf was dying in the clearing, the bodies of several smaller wolves here and there.

“A she-wolf and her pups,” Farkas sighed, kneeling beside the wolf and pressing his hand against its flank.

The wolf was too weak to even growl at them, but simply stared at them with eyes full of pain. Unable to stand seeing the poor creature suffer, Farkas pulled out a dagger and slit its throat, watching its eyes become dull in seconds. Lassarina had picked up the dead pups and lay them beside their mother.

“She must have died trying to chase off whatever killed her pups,” she said, stroking the closest pups cold body. 

“Whatever did this is still close by,” Farkas said, standing up and pointing at a trail of bloody prints.

“Then let's find it and kill it.” 

They followed the blood to a rocky clearing. Lassarina stepped out of the trees, only to quickly step back, spotting the culprit behind the wolves deaths. A large saber cat was crouched beside a cluster of rocks, scratching at the ground furiously.

“Ever kill a saber cat, Lassarina?” Farkas asked her quietly, pulling out his greatsword.

“Never,” she whispered. “But I'm always up to trying something once.”

“Alright then, I'm going to sneak around and get as close as possible. When I give you a signal I want you to fire a few arrows at it. But if it charges at you, try and get away.”

“I have a better idea,” she said, slinging her bow on her back.

She reached up to a branch just above her head and started to climb the tree until she was several feet off the ground and out of any saber cats reach. She pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow and nodded to Farkas, who smiled up at her before walking towards the saber cat. It was much too distracted by whatever it was trying to dig out to notice Farkas, so he managed to sneak around it and crouched behind a large boulder a few feet away from it. Lassarina watched Farkas until he looked over at her and waved his hand. Taking a deep breath she pulled back the drawstring and let the arrow loose. It hissed through the air and struck the saber cat's shoulder making it screech in pain. 

She loosed another arrow as it turned around and charged in her direction. As it spotted her, Farkas stepped out from behind the boulder and ran at the large cat, swinging his sword. He reached it and slammed the blade down on its neck, killing it instantly. Lassarina watched the blood pour from the cat as she sat on her branch.

“Are you coming down?” Farkas called.

She blinked and quickly climbed down, running over to Farkas to get a good look at the beast. She had never seen one up close before and was pretty impressed. It was as big as she was, with large teeth and sharp claws.

“Lucky we came across this,” he smiled. “saber cat pelts make for excellent bedding. They fetch quite a price too.”

“Here, let me skin it,” she offered, pulling out a dagger. “You've already made enough of a bloody mess.”

Farkas cut off the rest of its head and Lassarina got to work skinning its pelt off its body. It took quite a while, being careful not to spread any blood onto the fur itself, but she finally had the fur rolled up into a neat bundle and she put it in the empty satchel.

“We should start heading back,” Farkas said. “We'll want to get back to Jorrvaskr before the sun starts to set.”

“All right.”

She started to follow Farkas when a cry reached her ears. She stopped and turned around, looking around for the source. The cry turned into whimpering and Lassarina made a guess as to what was making the sound. She walked over to the rocks where the saber cat had been digging and found a shallow dip underneath them, forming a small hollow.

“Rina, what is it?” Farkas asked, walking over.

She knelt down and reached into the hollow, feeling around till her hands touched a small and furry body. Lassarina grabbed the creature and pulled it out, revealing a small wolf pup, with pale gray-brown fur and brown eyes.

“Looks like not all the pups were killed,” she smiled, holding the whimpering pup close.

Farkas's eyes went wide and he knelt beside her, reaching for the pup. She reluctantly let him have it and the pups tail began to wag once he held it. It began nipping at his fingers playfully, making Lassarina laugh. Farkas looked up and saw her staring adoringly at the pup, smiling as it playfully continued to nip at him. If he could hear her laugh like that every time, he'd let the pup nip him till nothing was left of his fingers but bone. She looked very pretty when she laughed, her face lighting up and her blue eyes sparkling.

“I'm surprised you aren't afraid of him,” Farkas said, handing her the pup when she reached for him.

“Why would I be?” she asked him, her brow arching in confusion. “I love wolves, they're such strong and proud creatures. I admire them.”

She saw something in Farkas's eyes soften at her comment and she couldn't help but smile at him. The wolf pup had started to nip at her own fingers and she guessed that he must be hungry. Farkas handed her a strip of salted beef and Lassarina chewed it up before offering it to the pup. The little wolf sniffed the pre-chewed meat for several seconds before he licked it off her hand and looked up at her for more. She and Farkas kept feeding the pup until he had eaten his fill and fallen asleep on Lassarina's lap.

“What do we do with him?” she asked Farkas with a frown. “He's too little to leave all alone in the woods.”

Farkas stared at her. She looked incredibly sad at the thought of leaving the pup and guessed she must feel some sort of personal connection with it. It wasn't such a strange thought, since they were both orphans without any family around they knew of. He sighed heavily before reaching out to pet the pup.

“Guess we have no other choice,” he told her. “We'll just have to bring him back with us.”

She looked up at him surprised. “A wolf in Jorrvaskr?”

“We wear wolf armor,” he shrugged. “Why not have a pet wolf as well?”

“But the people in town, the mothers especially, they won't want a wolf living inside Whiterun.”

“He's still young, we'll teach him not to attack people unless ordered,” Farkas reassured her. He gave her a knowing look before adding, “Besides, you would have brought him along even if I had said no.”

Lassarina lowered her gaze, a blush coming to her face when she realized he knew what she had been thinking. Farkas got up and helped her to her feet, walking beside her while she carried the still sleeping pup.

“What should his name be?” Farkas asked. 

“Well he likes nipping on fingers,” she commented with a smile. “So his name should be Fang.”

Farkas laughed. It was a rather common name but it seemed to fit.

“Fang it is.”

**oOo**

They arrived back at Whiterun stables around the late afternoon and Lassarina saw that the Khajiit Caravan had made camp nearby. Encouraged by Farkas, she approached the campsite with him and Fang, who was now trailing after her on the ground. The first Khajiit she saw was the one she had seen driving the carriage. She walked up to him and he looked up at her.

“You're the girl that walked by this morning,” he observed, his voice heavily accented. “Come to make a trade?”

“Nay,” she answered, sitting on the ground in front of the Khajiit. “I actually came to ask you a few questions about a certain Khajiit Caravan you might have come across.”

“If it's information you're trading then I require your name as payment,” the Khajiit told her.

“My name is Lassarina,” she explained. “The man behind me is Farkas, and the wolf pup is Fang.”

“I am Qa'Shanir. What is it you would like to know?”

“I need information about a caravan,” she repeated. “You would probably remember it because a Nord would have possibly been part of it.”

“A Nord? Well that _is_ surprising, but also unfamiliar.”

“The leader of the Caravan would have been recognizable as well. He has brown-gray fur and dark stripes around silver eyes. And he also has a claw like scar across his face and a shredded ear.”

Shanir's ears pricked up. “You speak of Za'nir.”

“Then you know him?” 

“Yes, I know him,” he nodded. “He is my wife's father and is resting in the tent behind me.”

“May I speak to him?” 

Shanir stared at her for several moments before turning to a pregnant female Khajiit who was kneeling beside a tanning rack with a small Khajiit girl beside her, her face completely wrapped in a shawl.

“Tahana, wake your father,” he told her.

Tahana nodded and disappeared into the tent. After a few moments an elder Khajiit came out. Lassarina recognized him right away, his image had been burned into her mind the day he took her brother away. Za'nir walked over and sat beside the fire, staring right at Lassarina with intense silver eyes.

“I recognize you,” Za'nir said after a while. “Your eyes are familiar.”

“They are the same as my brothers,” she explained.

Za'nir's eyes lit up. “You're Einarr's sister.”

“That's right, I was wondering if you knew where he was.”

“I have not seen Einarr for a long time,” Za'nir sighed. “He left the caravan around seven years ago saying he was returning to Skyrim to find you.”

Lassarina gasped at Za'nir's words and felt tears prick her eyes. The very year she had lost hope that her brother would ever return for her was the year he traveled back to Skyrim to get her.

“He wrote to us saying that the matron had adopted you to a family but refused to tell him where,” Za'nir continued. “He has been traveling all over Tamriel the past seven years searching for you, writing to us often. Last we heard, he was returning to Skyrim to force the matron to tell him where you were sent, but we haven't heard from him since.”

“How long ago did he send that letter?” she asked, the tears now freely falling down her face.

“Two months, he was crossing over the border from Cyrodiil. We fear he might have gotten caught up in that incident at Helgen with the dragon.”

Her chest became tight at the thought of her brother having died and she found it hard to breathe.

“Please if you hear from him, send me word,” she begged. “I'm living here at Whiterun, in Jorrvaskr.”

Za'nir nodded and Lassarina walked over to Farkas and Fang. The wolf was now being carried by Farkas and Lassarina quickly took him in her arms, holding the pup close.

“I'm sure your brother's fine,” Farkas told her. 

“No,” she whispered. “If he was at Helgen . . . he's probably dead.”

“You can't possibly know that.”

“Farkas, there's something I haven't told you... I was at Helgen. I witnessed the dragon attack first hand. I escaped with a few Stormcloaks. None of them were named Einarr.”

If Farkas was surprised at her news, he didn't show it, instead he reached out and hugged her. 

“I'm sure there were other survivors. Ulfric was there and we've learned he's back on his throne at Windhelm. Was Ulfric with your group?”

She shook her head and looked up at him, her tear filled eyes nearly tearing his heart in two. He reached up and wiped the tears away with his knuckle.

“Then don't lose hope. I'm sure he's alive. And he's here in Skyrim, sooner or later, he'll come to Whiterun asking about you and then you'll be reunited.”

She smiled slightly at Farkas's gesture to make her feel better. “Thank you, Farkas. I pray to the Nine that you're right.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lassarina decides to stay in Whiterun for a while longer and gets drunk. Then a few days later, an encounter with a dragon leads to a shocking revelation.

**Chapter Four**

Farkas sat with Lassarina outside out the Whiterun gates, lending her his shoulder, while she cried. He felt bad for her; he honestly wouldn't know what to do if Vilkas went missing. He'd probably search all of Skyrim looking for him, and if he didn't find him then he'd search the rest of Tamriel. He wouldn't rest until he found Vilkas, whether he ended up being dead or alive.

He kept murmuring words of comfort to her, telling her that Einarr was no doubt searching for at that very moment. That there was no guarantee that her brother was at Helgen at the time of the dragon attack. Even Fang, who was sitting on her lap, was trying to comfort the crying girl, licking the tears from her face and nipping at her fingers. He didn't know if it was his words, Fangs actions, or a combination of both, but after a little while Lassarina stopped crying and wiped her reddened eyes dry. She stayed quiet for a few moments, taking several deep breaths before she finally looked up at Farkas.

“I'm sorry for being so troublesome,” she apologized. “I cried all over your shoulder.”

“It's fine, Rina,” he smiled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You were worried about your brother and didn't know what else to do.”

“I still don't know what to do.”

“Well Whiterun is a good place to get any information of your brother. It's the center of all Skyrim. People always end up in Whiterun every time and again. You could leave word with the merchants in the Plains District and at the Bannered Mare. If a man asking for you comes around they can tell him he can find you at Jorrvaskr.”

“That could take months. I only meant to stay with all of you a few days. I've already overstayed my welcome.”

“Nay, you haven't,” he protested. “You can call Jorrvaskr your home as long as you wish. Everyone enjoys having you there; Tilma especially. She thanked me the other day for bringing you there. Says you're like her granddaughter.”

She smiled at that comment. “That's funny since I like to think of Tilma as my grandmother. But I highly doubt everyone enjoys having me there. Njada is always telling me I don't belong there, and Vilkas . . .”

“Njada and my brother are like that to everyone,” he told her for what felt like the thousandth time. “How many times do I have to tell that to you before you understand it?”

She smiled even more and couldn't help but chuckle.

“That's what I like to hear,” Farkas grinned. “You have a lovely laugh, Lassarina.”

She felt herself blushing and looked down at Fang, who was nipping at her fingers once again. His sharp little teeth were starting to make her fingers hurt a bit so she pulled away and tapped his nose.

“That's enough of that,” she told him. “If you keep doing that you'll leave me without any skin.”

Fang stared up at her, his brown eyes indignant, and let out a little bark, expressing his annoyance of having his toy taken away. She smiled at him, but shook her head.

“Sorry, but we can't have you thinking biting people's fingers is all right,” she said firmly. “I don't care how cute you are, I won't tolerate you hurting anyone.”

“You speak to him as if he can understand what you're saying,” Farkas laughed.

“He _can_ understand. Animals are intelligent. A hunting dog understands his masters commands and a horse can understand what each tug of the reins means. So why can't a wolf understand my words?”

Farkas laughed and shook his head, standing up and pulling her up with him. “I can't think of a reason because you're right. Wolves are smart.”

“I hope Kodlak and the other Companions won't mind him.”

“They won't, trust me.”

They walked through the Whiterun gates and headed directly for the market stands in front of the Bannered Mare. Lassarina and Farkas left word with every vendor and then repeated their words to the merchants inside the surrounding shops and at the Bannered Mare. Once they were sure they got everyone, Farkas led the way back to Jorrvaskr. As they stepped through the doors of the mead hall, they found several of the Companions gathered around the table, drinking mead or eating. Torvar spotted them first and raised his tankard.

“Looks who's back from her first hunting trip!”

“How was it?” Ria asked.

“We brought down a saber cat,” Farkas told everyone, reaching into the satchel and pulling out the pelt as proof. “Lassarina shot it from a tree and when it turned around I just about sliced its head off.”

“An impressive kill,” Aela said, running her hands through the fur. “But it looks like a pelt is not the only thing you brought back from this trip.”

Aela looked right at the pup Lassarina was holding and she smiled at the older woman nervously. The rest of the Companions followed Aela's gaze and their eyes widened at the sight of the wolf.

“That's a wolf pup, isn't it?” Ria gasped.

“The saber cat killed its mother and the rest of the litter,” Farkas explained. “This one only survived because it hid.”

“He's only a little over a month old, if that,” Lassarina added, stepping forward, Fang squirming in her arms. “He's too young to survive without a mother, so we brought him back with us.”

“Isn't that a bit dangerous?” Athis asked, staring at the pup.

“He's too young to be aggressive towards people. He can be trained and become tame.”

“And who, may I ask, is going to train him?” Skjor asked, sitting beside Aela.

“I will,” Lassarina told him firmly, holding Fang closer.

“I thought you were leaving for Riften soon,” Njada said. “How can you train a wolf when you're just going to leave?”

She flinched back from the womans harsh gaze and Farkas stepped in front of her, glaring at Njada.

“Lassarina has decided to stay for a while,” he told Njada.

“Really?” Ria asked, excited. “What made you change your mind Rina?”

“There was a Khajiit Caravan camped outside of town,” Lassarina explained. “My older brother was adopted by the leader of that very Caravan and told me he was somewhere in Skyrim looking for me. I thought we'd have a better chance at finding each other if I stayed in one place.”

“That is good news,” Kodlak's voice suddenly spoke.

Everyone turned their heads and saw the aging Harbinger had come up from the dormitories below, no doubt to join everyone for supper. Lassarina held Fang close as Kodlak walked over to her and looked down at the pup. For several moments she feared Kodlak would tell her to take Fang back to the forest, but the weight of the fear was lifted when the Harbinger smiled and reached out to pet the wolf.

“He'll make an excellent Companion,” Kodlak finally said.

Lassarina smiled and loosened her grip on the pup a bit, which gave Ria a chance to take him and pet his soft fur. Soon Torvar stepped over to inspect the wolf, only to make everyone laugh when Fang wrinkled his nose at his alcohol ridden breath and nipped the Nords nose.

“Even a wolf thinks you have a drinking problem,” Athis chuckled.

“Does he have a name?” Aela asked, having taken the pup from Ria.

“His name is Fang,” Lassarina said.

“Did Farkas come up with that?” Skjor asked, petting Fang, his good eye soft.

“Actually Rina named him,” Farkas laughed. “Can't pin that one on me.”

“I think it suits him,” Aela said, smiling as Fang nibbled on her fingers.

The Companions spent the rest of the night drinking and eating, asking all about the saber cat they killed. The entire time they passed around Fang, who was enjoying the attention and getting scraps off of everyone's plate. Everyone found it funny when Torvar gave the pup a drink of mead and then Fang started wobbling around the room, unsteady on his legs before finally falling asleep on the pelt of the saber cat that killed his mother.

They drank until it was very late in the night, and for the first time since she had arrived at Whiterun Lassarina was thoroughly drunk, laughing at the slightest joke and making Torvar ten septims richer when she walked out of Jorrvaskr and collapsed in the waterways around the Gildergreen. Farkas had taken it upon himself to try and take care of Lassarina as much as possible, but it became even harder when he got just as drunk as she did. When she collapsed in the waterways Farkas tried pulling her out, but only ended up falling in himself, making her sides hurt from laughter.

“Rina, I've been meaning to ask you something,” Farkas slurred, water dripping from his face as he sat up.

“What?” she giggled, crawling out of the waterway and wringing the water from her hair.

“You said you were at Helgen. What exactly happened?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I had crossed over the border from Cyrodiil and walked into an ambush that the Imperials set up for the Stormcloaks. The idiots thought I was with them even though I kept saying I wasn't.”

She looked around for the unopened bottle of mead she had been carrying and saw it had rolled a few feet away. She quickly grabbed it and took a long sip before handing it to Farkas who drank a bit himself.

“They threw me onto a cart with a Stormcloak soldier, a horse thief and the Jarl of Windhelm himself. There was someone else too, but he slept the entire way to Helgen. The Stormcloak soldier, Ralof, told me he saw the guy get hit pretty hard in the back of the head by a sword pommel. Well we got to Helgen and they lined us up to be executed. They called my name second and just as the executioner was about to chop my head off, the dragon attacked.”

“That explains why you were covered in smoke stains. Did the dragon shoot fire at you?”

“It all happened so fast. I'm not even sure how I got out of there in one piece. Ralof pulled me into a nearby tower with a couple of Stormcloak soldiers and Jarl Ulfric. I ended up following Ralof to Riverwood and then ended up here.”

Lassarina's hands had started to shake from the memories of Helgen. Her head being forced onto the still bloody chopping block. The look in the executioners eyes as he stared down at her. The sight of the black dragon as it fired a jet of flames onto the towns. Farkas must have seen that she was troubled cause he reached out and tugged on the end of her braid.

“No more bad memories,” he told her sternly.

He quickly stood up and lifted her onto her feet. They were both a little unsteady so they had to lean on each other for support. Farkas led her down to the Plains District, passing the bottle of mead back and forth until there was none left, Farkas having drank the last bit of it and making Lassarina angry.

“That was my mead,” she told him with a smile. “I was supposed to have the last sip!”

“What are you going to do about it?” he chuckled, waving the empty bottle in her face.

She snatched the bottle from him and hit the back of his head with it, but not hard enough to do any damage. He grunted and rubbed the back of his head.

“Lass, you're gonna pay for that,” he grinned.

Lassarina saw him reach for her and she quickly stepped out of the way before turning around and ran. She could hear him running after her and she quickly picked up the pace, laughing as she ran past a guard. Farkas had bumped right into the guard and had to stop to help him up, making him lose sight of her. She had run over to the gate and was hiding in the shadows, waiting for Farkas to come looking so she could jump him. She waited several moments and was dozing off when a familiar shape walked right by her. Instantly alert, she jumped out from her hiding spot and onto his back.

“Got you!” she cried out with a laugh.

His hand reached to grab her shoulder and threw her off, slamming her to the ground. She shouted out in pain, groaning when the shock faded.

“Farkas, why in Oblivion did you do that!?” she demanded, struggling to sit up and glaring at him.

She instantly flinched when she saw that it wasn't Farkas she had jumped, but Vilkas. He must have just returned from his assignment cause his face was grimy and covered in sweat. Blood was splattered across his armor and he had a scowl on his face.

“I should be asking you that,” he growled at her.

“Vilkas, I'm so sorry,” she babbled, forgetting her pain and getting up onto unsteady feet. “I thought you were Farkas. He was chasing me.”

“Gods, Lassarina, are you drunk?” Vilkas asked, grabbing onto her shoulder to steady her.

“Nay, I'm fine. I was just having some fun.”

Vilkas reeled back when her alcohol laced breath reached him and he sighed.

“Come on, let's get you back to Jorrvaskr,” he said, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her along.

“Nay, I don't want to go back,” she slurred. “I need to go ask Za'nir more questions about my brother.”

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and turned towards the gate. She walked right up to the guard who stopped her immediately and told her she couldn't go outside.

“Nay it's fine,” she reassured him. “I just have to talk to the Khajiit outside.”

“Companion, could you control your woman?” the guard complained to Vilkas, who had followed her.

“I'm not his-”

She was interrupted by Vilkas, who had picked her up by her waist and threw her over his shoulder. She shouted at him and slammed his back with her fists, demanding he put her down, but he just ignored her and apologized to the guards as he walked away.

“Vilkas, put me down!” she shouted again.

“Just be quiet!” he snapped. “I'm taking you back to Jorrvaskr so you can sleep this off.”

“I don't want to go back I want to go outside!” she complained, feeling queasy from being held upside down.

“Vilkas, what are you doing?” Farkas' voice asked.

“Farkas, tell him to put me down!” she groaned, the feeling to retch starting to become unbearable.

“Brother, put Lassarina down,” Farkas ordered lightly, his voice thick with laughter he was trying to hold back.

“You've both had too much to drink,” Vilkas spat. “We're going back to Jorrvaskr. Now.”

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” Lassarina muttered. “Vilkas, please, put me down.”

Vilkas sensed she was about to retch and set her on the ground, she quickly ran over to a nearby bush and completely emptied her stomach of the sour tasting bile. Vilkas and Farkas waited for her until she stumbled back to them, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Are you alright?” Farkas asked.

“Aye,” she murmured. “I just got really tired all of a sudden.”

She took another wobbly step forward and nearly tripped over her own feet, receiving a laugh from Farkas and a sigh from Vilkas. Handing Farkas his greatsword, Vilkas knelt in front of Lassarina, his back to her.

“Get on, I'll carry you back,” he offered.

She didn't protest this time and got on his back, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face resting on his shoulder. They started walking back to Jorrvaskr, but Lassarina didn't stay awake long enough, passing out a few minutes after climbing onto Vilkas' back.

**oOo**

Several days later Lassarina was still facing the teasing jokes from the Companions of her drunken state and having to be carried back to Jorrvaskr by Vilkas. Her back and head hurt like crazy for a couple of days. She spent most of her time inside, avoiding the bright sunlight that only made her head ache more, and got to work on training Fang.

The wolf pup was already starting to show that the training was paying off. She had taught him how to sit and heel rather quickly, and was currently working on controlling his curiosity. While the other Companions had come to adore the pup, they did not appreciate having him sniff through there stuff in search of something to chew on. Farkas had given Fang a large bone to sate his need to chew, but the little wolf still enjoyed sneaking into bedrooms.

Lassarina saw that Fang was looking for trouble once again when she spotted him sneaking into Vilkas's room. She knew from her time living at Jorrvaskr that Vilkas didn't like people going into his room, not even Tilma. He cleaned up after himself, Tilma had told her. In the weeks she had lived there she hadn't even seen the inside of Vilkas's room, but now she figured she would have to; she had to go in to get Fang out.

Thankful that the intimidating warrior was upstairs, Lassarina stepped into Vilkas's room and spotted Fang on his large bed, rolling around in the furs playfully. She couldn't help but smile at the pup as she walked over and picked him up off the bed. She had turned to leave when her eyes fell upon the bookshelf. Each shelf was filled with books and her eyes widened in awe. She walked over to the books and ran her fingers along the spines, pulling one of them out and trying to sound out the title.

“Th-The, W-wo-l-f- Wolf, Q-q-” she frowned as she tried to sound out the last word, her brow furrowing in frustration.

“What are you doing in my room?” Vilkas demanded, surprising her.

She turned around and clutched Fang close, seeing Vilkas glaring at her.

“I'm sorry,” she told him. “I only came in to grab Fang. I didn't want him messing up any of your stuff.”

“You've got the wolf, why are you still in here then?”

“I saw all your books. I was just looking.”

Vilkas stared at her before looking at the book that was still in her hand. He took it from her and scanned the title before offering it back to her.

“You can borrow it if you'd like.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she didn't know what to say. She honestly expected Vilkas to yell at her, to tell her never to set a foot in his room and never touch his things again. The last thing she was expecting was him loaning her one of the books.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to take the book?” he snapped.

She blinked and quickly shook her head. “Nay that's alright, Vilkas. I can't read well that well. I can't even write. It would take me a year to read a book like that.”

Vilkas stared at her again before placing the book back on the shelf.

“I could teach you to read and write,” he offered without looking at her, choosing to walk over to the weapons rack beside his bed and grab his greatsword.

“Really?” she asked excitedly. “Could you teach me now?”

“Nay, not now,” he shook his head. “I've got to go rescue this man who got kidnapped. His wife is paying handsomely for his safe return. Once I come back I could give you a lesson.”

“Thank you, Vilkas.”

Vilkas glanced at her and she swore she caught a glimpse of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappeared when he nodded.

“Everyone should know how to read and write,” he explained with a shrug. “And if you receive word of your brother from those Khajiit, it'll probably be written. I'd imagine you'd want to read anything like that yourself.”

She nodded enthusiastically. Za'nir and his Caravan had moved on the day before yesterday, but they had promised her that they would tell her if they ran into Einarr and tell him where she was.

“Also, you should probably take the pup out for a walk in the plains,” Vilkas said, leading her out of his room with a gentle push. “He's probably getting into all that trouble because he's restless.”

“That's true,” she sighed, petting the wolf pup.

“Grab your weapons, you can walk with me up to the Western Watchtower before heading back on your own.”

She nodded, quickly running over to her bed in the dormitory and picking up the bow and arrows and sword the Companion's had given her. She clicked her tongue at Fang to follow her and the pup trailed after her like a little shadow as she climbed up the steps to find Vilkas waiting for her. They walked out of Jorrvaskr, Lassarina often having to call after Fang whenever he ran ahead. They were nearing the gate when they saw a large group of soldiers being led by Irileth and a man in steel armor and helm running out the gates.

“What do you think that's all about?” Lassarina asked Vilkas.

“I'm not sure,” he replied. “Perhaps we should follow, see if we can be of any help.”

Though she was a bit apprehensive about following a group of soldiers into what could possibly be a battle, Lassarina nodded. She figured if there was a battle ahead she could always stand farther away from the thick of it with Fang and fire arrows. She and Vilkas ran after the soldiers, who surprisingly had gotten very far ahead. They were heading towards the Western Watchtower, and she could see a cloud of smoke far ahead.

“The watchtower must be on fire,” Lassarina panted as they ran.

Vilkas merely grunted and picked up the pace, making Lassarina work twice as hard to try and keep up. By the time they reached the soldiers, they had arrived at the Watchtower, and they were all hiding behind a large boulder.

“What's going on?” Vilkas asked when they reached them.

“A dragon,” one of the soldiers announced. “It attacked the watchtower.”

Lassarina gasped and felt her hands start to shake. She wanted to run, her mind was screaming at her telling her to run back to Whiterun and not look back, but she couldn't move. Something was keeping her there and she had no idea what. She looked at the faces of every soldier and saw they each looked terrified, but determined to fight the dragon. She looked up at the sky and at the watchtower but the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

 _Maybe it flew away,_ she thought hopefully.

She felt someone staring at her and looked at the man in steel armor. He was clearly not a soldier, and was staring right at her. She could see pale-blue eyes being shadowed by the helm on his head and got the feeling he recognized her. After staring at him for a few moments she started to get a similar feeling.

“I know you,” she said without thinking.

The man nodded and removed his helm, letting thick, honey-brown hair fall down to his shoulders in a sweaty messy tangle and frame a chiseled, tanned face. Her eyes widened in surprise and she couldn't help but gasp.

“You're that man from Helgen,” she whispered. “You were in the carriage.”

He nodded. “I escaped with Ulfric. How did you get away?”

“Ralof, the soldier that was in the same carriage as us.”

“You know this man?” Vilkas asked her.

She nodded to him. “Aye, he was at Helgen when the dragon attacked.”

“All right, we're going in,” Irileth announced. “Search for any survivors and keep your eyes open, that dragon could still be around.”

Lassarina knelt beside Fang and ordered the pup to stay. The small wolf was shaking violently, as if sensing the danger, and quickly crawled into a little gap in the boulder, whimpering. Once she was confident Fang wouldn't move, she followed Vilkas out to the Watchtower, her bow drawn and ready to fire. They were nearing the watchtower when a soldier stepped out from inside, shouting at them.

“No, go back!” he cried. “It's still here!”

A roar suddenly echoed around them and Lassarina's eyes went to the sky. She saw the dragon flying towards them, having flown and hidden behind the mountain nearby.

“Take cover!” the man from Helgen shouted to everyone.

Vilkas pulled Lassarina by her arm over to a collapsed heap rocks. She looked at him and saw that his eyes were clouded by fear and the sword in his hands was shaking slightly. Seeing the normally brave Companion beside her scared made her less frightened herself. She found herself reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. Vilkas looked at her and she let her eyes speak for her. They said how she was glad to have met him and having spent all this time with him and the other Companions. They said how she appreciated everything they had done for her and wished she would have done more to thank them.

Vilkas seemed to understand, for he nodded to her and freed a hand to hold hers. His eyes became soft for the first time since she met him and he smiled at her. He actually _smiled_ at her.

“If this is to be my last battle, I'm glad to have a Companion by my side,” he told her.

“My first and possibly last battle,” she smiled. “May we come out of this unscathed.”

The dragon's roar was right above them and Lassarina raised her bow, pointing it up as she released an arrow. It hit its mark, getting the dragon right in its belly. For some reason she was relieved to see that this dragon wasn't the same one from Helgen, giving her enough courage to stand up and fire another arrow at the flying reptile. The dragon roared, sounding annoyed and angry as it turned around and flew at her. She gasped and started running back. She felt the ground shake beneath her as the dragon landed and she stumbled a bit. She looked over her shoulder and saw the dragon take a deep breath. She froze, knowing what was coming and how she wouldn't be able to avoid it.

“Lassarina!” the man from Helgen shouted as he ran at her and tackled her out of the way right before the dragon released its fiery breath.

She rolled across the ground with him and ended up beneath him when they stopped, his arms wrapped protectively around her. The heat disappeared and Lassarina looked up, seeing several soldiers stabbing and slashing at the dragon. The man on top of her still hadn't let her go and she started to push him.

“Get off me!” she snapped, smacking his chest.

He stood up and turned to the dragon, running at it with both hands gripping the pommel of his greatsword. He stood beside Vilkas as the hacked and slashed at the dragon, turning it into a bloody scene. Lassarina got to her feet herself and started to fire arrows at the dragon. The fight wasn't long, though the dragon managed to kill a few soldiers with its snapping jaws, but it finally collapsed, falling dead with blood pouring from the wounds. She let out a sigh of relief, glad the battle was over, but her breath hitched when she saw the man from Helgen walking towards her.

“Rina, are you alright? Are you hurt?” he demanded, grabbing her shoulders and checking her for any injuries.

She blinked and nodded. “Aye, I'm fine but-”

She was shocked into silence when the man pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to push him off. “Who do you think you are? And how do you know my name?”

“Let her go,” Vilkas growled, pulling the man off of her and shoving him aside to stand in front of Lassarina.

The man stared at her, confused at first, but then his vision cleared with a sudden clarity and he sighed.

“Of course you wouldn't remember me. You were only four when we were separated.”

Her entire body tensed and she felt she knew what the man was about to say.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

The man stared at her, his pale-blue eyes soft, relieved and full of joy.

“Lassarina, it's me,” he said. “I'm your brother. I'm Einarr.”

 


End file.
